Her words amazed me, for, with the exception of Lord Warnham, the Marquis of Maybury, and Frayling at Scotland Yard, no living person knew of the theft of the secret convention. "How, pray, are you aware that any document has been stolen?" I asked quickly, my mind at once filled with suspicion. The fact that this girl was a Russian was in itself sufficient to place me at once upon my guard. "I have heard so," she answered, with a mysterious smile. "Well, and what do you allege?" I inquired, keeping my eyes fixed upon her. "Allege!" she cried. "Why, nothing. I have merely asked you a simple question, whether you are aware of the past of Ella Laing, and you have not answered. You are silent." "I know sufficient of her past to love her," I answered, determined that the words of this strange-mannered girl should not arouse greater suspicion than that which already dwelt in my mind. "Love her! Bah! You will hate her when you learn the truth," she cried, with a gesture of disgust. "Then tell me," I cried impatiently. "Why should I hate her?" "No," she said slowly, shaking her head, and slightly raising her shoulders. "I make no reflections. If you love her--well, I suppose you desire that your fool's paradise should last as long as possible." "My fool's paradise, as you term it, will, I trust, last always," I said resentfully, for her manner had suddenly changed, and she treated me reproachfully, with a familiarity that was as surprising as it was annoying. "Alas! not always, I fear," she smiled, as if pitying my simplicity. "Your present paradise will soon be a veritable hell." "You speak candidly, at least," I said, angered at her words. "But I did not call here to listen to libellous allegations of which there are no proofs." "No proofs?" she echoed. "Ah, do not be so confident, m'sieur. You have no knowledge of the character of the woman you love, or you would not say this. I do not wish you to follow my advice; I do not urge you to listen to my words. I only warn you because you have been my best friend," and she gazed straight into my eyes with an earnestness that was intense. "You warn me. Of what?" "Of Ella, the woman who has apparently fascinated you as she has done others," and she sighed, as if memories were painful. "A pretty woman may often unconsciously fascinate many men before meeting the man she marries," I said, as calmly as I could. "Unconsciously, yes," she answered. "But there are some who use the beauty that their Maker has bestowed upon them to allure their victims." "You anticipate I am doomed, then?" I laughed. She regarded me gravely for an instant, then said, in a voice quiet and low,-- "I do not think--I know. The mysterious death that overtook your friend Dudley Ogle should have overtaken you instead. But for an amazing coincidence, by which your life was saved and his taken, you would, ere this, have been in your grave."